Platinum Libraries
by Nightmare Prince
Summary: When two people really care about each other, they always find a way to make it work. No matter how hard it is. Draco never stopped fighting for his Granger, not until she became his Lady Malfoy. [Twenty Six One-Shots centred on the romance of Draco and Hermione, from their first encounter to their last grandchild]
1. A Thousand Years: 1985

_**A/N: Regarding the Cover Image of this Story. It was made by me using the Rinmaru Fantasy Couple Creator. The reason I chose to create them in "dress-up" rather than a standard Dramione image is that it's a depiction of one of the events in this story, which will be the Halloween Ball.**_

 _ **I hope you enjoy :)**_

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 **Platinum Libraries**

 _ **A**_ _ **Thousand Years**_

 _ **(First Meeting)**_

 **.o0o.**

 _("My line shall remain pure till the end of days," declares Gotberga Malfoy. "Never shall we sully our hands with the filth of those born from the mud.")_

 _(985 AD)_

 _._

He's lost.

Mother's always telling him to never leave her side when they go out, and he always listens. It's not really that he wants to listen to her and not explore . . . it's more that if she gets cross about him going off on his own, he'll be stuck at home with the horrid governess. Ms Clegane is a frightful woman, but, even though he wonders why he needs a glorified babysitter at the mature age of five, Mother and Father insist on keeping her on.

Perhaps, he thinks – looking around at the sea of knees moving about on either side of him – it would have been better to have stayed with Mother.

He totters down the road, wrinkling his nose at the strange ladies who look at him as if wanting to pinch his cheeks.

There will be no cheek pinching, thank you very much, he thinks with a glare, and he brings his hands up to cover them. He knows about old woman and their desire to pinch children's cheeks till they bleed very well thanks to his Grandma Druella.

It's a very strange world he's wandered into, and he doesn't like it. The lane, for some reason, is filled with strange metal boxes on wheels that light up and make sounds similar to a constipated dragon.

He shudders at the memory, reminding himself that he's never to let himself go on holiday with Grandpa Abraxas again. Romania is a horrible place, and it turns outs that not all dragons are as adorable as him.

Then again, nobody comes close to the perfection that is him.

Shaking his head, he realises that if he's to go any further, it will mean going amidst the smoking dragons with gastric distress, and something tells him that that's a bad idea. Suddenly, one of the iron-dragon-boxes pulls up near, letting out a cloud of pungent, sooty smoke, and he coughs, slowly backing away.

Wiping at his eyes, and realising that he's more than a little grubby at present, he begins to panic, the first seeds beginning to take root within him, because he's realising that this isn't Diagon Alley at all.

He wishes now that he'd just sat in Madame Malkin's and waited for her to finish.

Nothing's going to be accomplished by wishing though, so he turns back and begins walking the way he came. Surely, he thinks, he'll be able to find the way back to Mother easily enough if he got back to that smelly old place with the toothless innkeeper.

The Leaky Cauldron! That's it!

It's taken a while, but he remembers now, and with renewed vigour he begins marching back to where he'd come from in the hopes of returning to the Cauldron. It's a start, because even if he doesn't know the name, all he needs to do is ask someone for directions.

Preferably not one of the strange cheek-pinchers though, because their claws look to be lengthening with every passing moment, and he doesn't fancy having to visit Blaise that afternoon looking as though he's fought a battle with his mother's make-up and lost.

Finally, when he thinks he's made his way back the same distance that he's gone in the first place, he reaches out and tugs on the pants of a nearby old man.

"I'm looking for the Leaky Cauldron," he demands imperiously, folding his arms for good measure and drawing himself up to his full height as he often sees Father do during confrontations. "Where is it?"

The old man scoffs and shakes him off before turning away from him, and he distinctly hears the man mutter about _homeless street urchins._

Draco's lips tremble at the insult, and his eyes twitched as he fights back the urge to follow the man and give him a piece of his mind. How dare he call him, a Malfoy, a homeless street urchin. As if he's a filthy Mudblood brat living in Knockturn Alley.

"I know where that it," says a voice, and Draco turns, eyes lighting up as he sees a girl his own age standing a few feet away from him. Her cheeks are pink and her hair is awfully bushy, but she's smiling – and after the adventure he's had today, he could use a smiling face that didn't want to pinch his cheeks.

"Where?" he asks grumpily, folding his arms and tapping his foot, quirking an eyebrow and curling his lips into what he hopes is an intimidating sneer, deciding that since imitating his father hasn't worked out so well on his quest to go home, that it's time to pull out the big guns and imitate his mother.

"Right up there." She points at a building just two shops up the street, and he looks up, a grin spilling across his face as he realises that she's right and he's finally free. He begins to march off, before remembering his manners and turning back to the girl, and sticking out a grubby, soot-stained hand.

"I'm Malfoy," he says, "Draco Malfoy."

"I'm Hermione." She smiles, taking his hand and shaking it.

"You aren't alone here, are you?" he asks suddenly, realising that maybe she's lost too and that maybe he can help her like she's helped him. Even if he can't, maybe Mother can, and he knows how to find her now.

"No," Hermione says, winking. "My mummy is over there talking with Aunt Emilia." She gestures at a woman standing close by, happily chatting with a grey-haired cheek-pincher.

"Oh," he replies, feeling embarrassed, before turning and hurrying for the Leaky Cauldron, determined to never again leave Mother's side.

Just as he reaches the entrance, he thinks that maybe that girl from earlier could be one of the few girls who didn't have cooties – she has shaken his hand, after all – and he shouts after her.

 _._

 _("We're friends, aren't we?" he asks, grinning toothily as she nods and takes her mother's hand to leave)_

 _(1985)_

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 **A/N: This is a series of twenty-six linked one-shots about the romance of Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger, one of the best ships to have ever sailed in this fandom. This collection is written for:**

 **The A-Z Competition at HPFC**

 **The Battleships Event at Diagon Alley II (The First Ten One-Shots only)**

 **-Prompts for this One-Shot:**

 **Scenario: First Meeting (Battleships)**

 **Song: Snake Charmer by Jessica Lowndes (Music Meme Challenge)**


	2. Breathless: 1998

_**A/N: So for the purpose of this story, the events are not going to be told in the order that they occur. I began, obviously, with their First Meeting, but with the Prompts I've been given to work with and the vision I have for this piece, a chronological story just won't work.**_

 _ **A massive thank you to everyone who read and reviewed the first chapter, you guys are the best.**_

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 **Platinum Libraries**

 _ **B**_ _ **reathless**_

 _ **(First Kiss)**_

 _ **.o0o.**_

 _[If I am to die this night]_

 _._

The night is dark and terror clings to the air, weighing it down and filling the school with a sense of foreboding. It's silent, save for the drumming of her heart in her throat, and it's like a fragile crystal vase.

People are afraid to speak, for fear of causing it to shatter.

A faint sheen of sweat glistens across her brow, the moonlight shining down on her as, like the calm before a storm, the air charges with static. She's alone, having lost Ron in the chaos of battle preparations, and Harry when he set off with Luna to seek the Ravenclaw Common Room.

The night is silent, the cold breeze cutting against her as she stands guard at a window, the perfect location from which to hurl jinxes into the grounds below. It's pointless to go searching for the boys now seeing as she doesn't have the Marauder's Map, and it's much more sensible to wait for them to find her.

The storm breaks with a roar of thunder and all at once the battle erupts around her. She can see them charging towards the castle, Death Eaters and Giants and Dementors, an army of darkness hellbent on devouring all that stands in its way.

Hermione doesn't hesitate as she lets fly her first curse, catching a Death Eater in the face and watching him go tumbling down the bluff. There's a twisted keening and she watches as suits of armour charge across the stone bridge, wielding sword and mace in the defence of Hogwarts.

It's chaotic, and pretty soon she's ducking as a jet of orange light is hurled at the window. Dust showers her as it makes contact with the ceiling, sending a filigree of cracks across the surface. Then she's on her feet and she jinxes two more, catching them with Body-Binds and watching them fall.

The doors burst open and she whirls, eyes widening at the two Death Eaters charging in. Quickly, she stuns one in the chest and deflects a curse from the other, before advancing and engaging him in a duel.

She gasps at the force of her attackers curses, barely managing to keep him at bay with her own spells, and as the fight wears on she realises what the older Order members have been telling her all this time.

It's kill or be killed, and she isn't ready to die.

Possessed by her new understanding, she ducks and spins, catching her opponent in the thigh with a severing charm. He howls, clutching as the deep cut, and she takes advantage of the momentary distraction to catch him with a _Sectumsempra_.

The Death Eater crumples in a pool of his own blood and Hermione takes a step back, a look of dawning horror on her face as she realises that she just took a life. Shaking herself, she turns back to the window, just in time to come face-to-face with another Death Eater.

One she does not want to see.

"I don't want to die without doing this," he murmurs, and there's a broken look on his face that tells her just how much the war has taken from him.

He's not dangerous – she can see in his eyes that he'll never hurt her.

He grabs her wrists and she tries to twist away as he pins them to her sides, pulling her close in the same movement. Blond hair tickles at her brow as he looks into her eyes, stormy-grey meeting rich-chocolate, and she bites her lower lip.

He lets go off her wrists, but before she can push him away, his palms are pressing against her cheeks and he's leaning in. Her eyes flutter shut as her lips brush his, and time stops around them as without a second of further hesitation, he's kissing her as though it's his last night in this world.

Her lips part and his tongue slips in, the battle no longer existing as they stand in the deserted corridor, feeling the castle quake and collapse around them.

Then the kiss breaks and he's gone, dashing down the corridor with his wand held before him, and she's left staring after his retreating figure.

"Malfoy," she whispers, wiping two fingers across her lips before turning the other way.

 _._

 _[Let me live first]_


End file.
